


The First Weeping Angel

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based off of <a href="http://unbefreakinlivable.tumblr.com/post/32399679802/i-believe-that-cas-despite-being-an-angel-would">this</a> post.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The First Weeping Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of [this](http://unbefreakinlivable.tumblr.com/post/32399679802/i-believe-that-cas-despite-being-an-angel-would) post.

He stood stock still, his toes pushed right up against the gravestone, his neck craned downward, his eyes fixed on the name etched on the headstone;  _DEAN WINCHESTER_.

Cas had been standing that way for what seemed like forever. An eternity. But however long it had been and however long it would be, it would never be long enough. He could mourn for 10,000 millennia and still feel unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Alone. Lost. Broken.

Allowing the memories to flood his brain, he replayed over and over again the horrific events that had led him to this point.

 

“If you go where I can’t follow, I swear I’ll-” He was cut off by the deep, weathered voice he had grown to love and crave.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”            

“No.” Cas refused stubbornly. It was uncharacteristic for him to refuse the other man, but fear often had a strange affect on one’s actions.

“Look at me.” Dean said. And when Cas didn’t, Dean placed a hand on the back of Cas’ neck, swiveling Cas’ face to look at his. Cas searched desperately in the green eyes that stared back at him for any signs that the dying hunter would survive this. He found nothing.

“Promise me.” Dean pleaded, his breath rapidly growing shallow. A tear slid down Castiel’s cheek.

“I can’t.” he admitted shamefully, shifting his gaze from Dean’s. The light was leaving Dean’s eyes and the angel couldn’t bear to watch.

“Dammit Cas,” Dean continued to plead, “I’m begging you to just-” he took a ragged breath, “to just do this one last thing-” another breath, “for me.”

More tears were spilling out of Cas’ eyes now. He felt shamed to be showing such raw emotion, but he couldn’t help it. He was an angel, a servant of the Lord. He had saved Dean’s life over and over and over again but this time, this time was different. He couldn’t do anything. Not even what Dean, with his literal last dying breath, was asking of him. He had reached the point of  _impossible_  and it was the worst, most horrifying feeling he’d ever felt in his entire existence.

“Cas.” Dean managed one last time. Castiel looked down at him and then it happened. Dean Winchester died.

“Dean!” Castiel cried out frantically. The only response he got in return was deafening silence. Cas grabbed Dean by the lapels of his jacket and shook him. “Dean!” he screamed. Again, no response.

Gently lowering the man back to the ground, Castiel, the almighty and powerful angel, bent his body over the hunter and crumbled into a mess of despairing sobs.

 

Pulling himself out of the past, Cas lowered himself to a squatting position. His muscles had grown stiff but he couldn’t be bothered to notice. Resting his head on the tombstone, Cas sighed deeply. He had searched everywhere, done everything that he knew of, bargained with those that never should have been bargained with and still, it was all for naught. Dean was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

“I tried.” He said quietly, tears rising in his eyes. As they began to flow across his cheeks, he continued, “I know this isn’t what you wanted but,” he paused to collect his scattered thoughts before continuing. “But I’m not strong enough.” He choked on the words. He was crying incessantly now, his shoulders shaking in agony. Unable to catch his breath, unable to speak all he could do was allow the tears to fall.

Several beats passed before he attempted to regain his composure. Reaching his hand down, he picked up a handful of dirt and stood upright once again. Sifting the dirt through his fingers, he watched the grains as the blew away in the wind. He knew that if Dean were there now, he’d be severely disappointed in what Cas was about to do. But the angel had made up his mind.

And so, with one final breath of self-assurance, Castiel took his place beside Dean’s graveside and unfurled his wings so that they rested directly behind him on his back. His clothing changed from his usual daily attire to more traditional angel robes causing his skin to prick with chill in the cool air. Muttering the words to an incantation he had hoped never to use, Castiel thought one last fleeting goodbye and put his face in his hands as he sobbed out the final words. Without hesitation, stone began to spread over his body, forever rooting him to the spot in which he stood. The stone climbed his calves and over his knees, thighs and hips, across his torso, over his chest and shoulders and finally up his neck and over his head. The deed was done. And now, even to this day, Castiel remains, steadfastly, the first weeping angel.


End file.
